


The Potential of You and Me

by SouldierToTheEnd



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Non-Powered, Attempt at Humor, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Insecure Tony Stark, M/M, Talk of Previous Potential Dubcon, Young Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouldierToTheEnd/pseuds/SouldierToTheEnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Steve's new neighbor is an asshole who likes to play rock music full blast at two in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Potential of You and Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkhachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkhachi/gifts).



> Quick note: The dubcon tag is in reference to Tony's past relationships, where he admits he's usually intoxicated when he has sex with other men. No actual dubcon takes place in this fic.

The first time it happened Steve was more confused and frustrated than angry. He thumped his head against the pillow, staring blearily up at the ceiling as the loud, fast-paced music pulsed throughout his bedroom. For a moment he thought his alarm clock was lying and that it was six in the afternoon, because why else would one of his neighbors be playing Metallica at full volume right now? He groaned as he sat up, running a hand through his bedhead hair. It must be the new neighbor – a few days he noticed a moving truck parked in front of the apartment complex when he went to get his mail. No one else in the apartment building was enough of an asshole to wake everyone up at two in the morning.

He stood up, shoving his feet into the sandals by his bed, before stumbling out of his apartment and into the hallway. Someone on the floor above was screaming obscenities and a few people were poking their head out into the hall, glaring at him like it was his fault. He paid them no mind as he turned towards the apartment next to his.

Steve knocked on the door and, when that didn’t get him the desired result, banged his fist down. And he kept banging the door until his neighbor opened it.

The guy’s expressive brown eyes blinked slowly at him, as if he was surprised to see Steve standing there. He looked to be in his early 20s, with unruly dark hair and a grin that could charm anyone he wanted. He wore a baggy shirt that hung off his slender build, exposing his neck and collarbone. Steve tried his best to ignore his own thoughts, which were urging him to consider other _interesting_ scenarios with this man.

He leaned against the door frame and leered at Steve. “Well, hello there. Am I being invited to the gun show?”

Steve blushed, remembering at last moment that he’d forgotten to put on a shirt. He said, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

His neighbor stared blankly at him.

“It’s two. Two a.m.”

“It is? Huh.” He still made no move to go turn the music off.

Steve was tempted to shove his way inside the apartment and break the speakers, politeness be damned. “Can you turn it down, like way down, or put on some headphones?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, gorgeous, no can do.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“Listen, I have very important work to do. Like unbelievably important, like shit that’s going to revolutionize the way people use technology for generations. And my music helps facilitate it, keeps me focused. Now that you know that, are you really trying to destroy humanity’s future?”

Steve nodded. “Turn your damn music off.”

“Whoa.” The man grinned. “You’re like legitimately angry.”

“I have to work. I have to wake up early. I need my sleep. So turn your damn music off.”

“Okay, okay.” He held his hands out in an attempt to pacify him. “I will. Only if you do something for me.”

Steve gave him an extremely unimpressed look.

“Tell me your name.”

He sighed. “Steve.”

“I’m Tony.” Tony shoved his hand at him and Steve grudgingly shook it.

“Turn it off.”

“I will. I’m a man of my word.” Tony smiled one last time before shutting the door. Steve stayed there until the music finally faded away, and then shuffled towards his own apartment.

 

* * *

 

 

And that was that, really. Steve didn’t see much of Tony for the next week or so. Not that he wanted to see him, of course. The guy was a complete dick and was too full of himself. It didn’t matter if he was very handsome with a full, luscious mouth that was just begging to be… No, there was no point in entertaining those kinds of thoughts. They were two neighbors with different lives going their separate ways. They were probably never going to interact with each other anyway.

Ten days later, Robert Plant’s shouting and Jimmy Page’s fast strumming shocked him out of sleep. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered, not even bothering with sandals this time. He ignored his neighbors’ loud curses as his fist pounded on the door. When no one answered, he twisted the doorknob and found it unlocked. He entered the apartment.

He bypassed the empty kitchen and living room, following the source of the music to one of the bedrooms. And there was Tony, sitting at a computer, surrounded by machinery, typing at the keyboard with one hand and turning over a circuit board with his other hand.

“Seriously?” Steve shouted. Tony didn’t look up, too engrossed in his work.

Steve looked around and saw the speakers – giant and looking ridiculously overpriced – sitting in a corner. He swiftly unplugged them and blessed silence filled the air.

Tony’s head bobbed up, startled, but he started to grin when he saw Steve. “You know, I’m really thankful for your aversion to shirts.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t play music so loud!”

“Yeah, about that.” Tony smiled sheepishly at him. “Turns out I can’t focus and work as well without music. It’s been taking me a long time and you know about projects’ deadlines. Sorry, honey, looks like you have to take one for the team.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, I am being very serious. This is how serious I am.” Tony tried to school his face into looking stern. The whole effect failed when he started giggling.

“I’m complaining to Mr. Kennedy,” Steve said.

“Who?”

“Mr. Kennedy? Our landlord?” Steve couldn’t help but sound incredulous. This guy didn’t even know their landlord was?

“Oh, don’t bother. I’ve already explained to him the situation and he completely understands.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s cool with it. So sorry, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Tony smirked. He leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers together, and made an obvious show of looking over Steve. His eyes swept over Steve’s body, lingering at his well-defined muscles.

Steve hoped he wasn’t blushing, but judging by Tony’s widened grin, there was no such luck.

“Y’know,” Tony said, “you can always stay here and keep me company.”

This… _kid_ had a lot of fucking nerve.

“Just keep it down,” Steve grumbled. He strode stiffly out of the apartment and refused to acknowledge the snickering behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

As Steve later found out, when he confronted his landlord, Tony had paid a rather hefty “noise fee” and so now Mr. Kennedy was willing to look the other way. And the rest of tenants had suddenly quieted down their own complaints, though Steve thought he had a pretty good idea as to why.

Soon after Steve talked to his landlord, he found a note with an unfamiliar handwriting taped to his front door, offering compensation for these “new circumstances.” He crumpled it in his fist and threw it in the trash.

It didn’t happen every night, but it happened often enough. Steve was beginning to seriously think about wearing earbuds to bed, which pissed him off to no end.

And Steve was frustrated, so very much. It wasn’t like he could just pack all of his things and move out; not to mention that the idea that _he_ had to leave, he who had been a perfect tenant, who was responsible and considerate to others. And now he had to face sleepless nights and dozing off at work the next day. None of this was fair.

This was not amusing to him at all. But by the fiftieth time he complained to Bucky about it at work, he could see his best friend was trying hard not to burst out laughing at him.

“You know,” Buck said, “I’d let you sleep at my place. But the truth is Nat and I would definitely keep you up with all our noise.”

“Yeah, no thanks. But Tony’s so irritating! I’d be in an elevator with him and he’d just smile. He probably thinks this is a fucking riot.”

And then Steve complained about Tony for another 15 minutes, the end of which his rant drifted off into silence as Steve noticed Bucky’s grin was slowly widening.

“What?” Steve asked, feeling self-conscious.

“You like him.”

“No, I don’t,” Steve spluttered.

“You want to go to his apartment, drag him into bed, and show him who’s boss.”

“Buck!”

Bucky turned towards the cubicle next to his, where their coworker was trying to ignore their conversation and get some actual work done. “Hey, Sammy, what do you think?”

Sam looked up and gave Steve a commiserating look. “I think Steve has a crush on him.”

“What are we? Twelve?”

Bucky chuckled. “Well with the way you two are going on, yes.”

“I bet Tony likes you too,” Sam added. “Why else does he keep calling you pet names?”

“To mock me. That part isn’t hard to figure out.”

Sam shook his head but didn’t comment further. Bucky continued to needle him until their supervisor came by to tell them to stop goofing around.

If Steve had to be honest with himself, the fact was that he did think Tony was rather attractive. Which annoyed him even more. Insomniacs who cared for no one but themselves and their work shouldn’t be so handsome.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks passed and Steve’s frustration tapered off into weariness. When he was awoken again, by Glenn Danzig this time, he didn’t bother with the indignation and instead went to Tony’s place again. He let himself in, figuring knocking would be useless, and found that the door was unlocked.

Tony glanced up once Steve entered his workspace – his expression brightened instantly and he greeted Steve with a grin. He leaned towards his desktop and lowered the volume of the speakers enough so they wouldn’t have to shout at each other.

“I just have one question,” Steve began. “Why is your work so important that you…”

Tony cocked his head to the side. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, never mind.” He bit at his bottom lip and Steve’s eyes tracked the movement. Tony muttered something too low to hear and then gestured at his monitor. “Right now I’m doing the coding for a new OS.”

“OS?”

“Short for operating system. It helps manages all of a software’s functions, very important. Anyway it’s for a prototype smartphone; I’m trying to give Apple a run for its money. Their vision of technology is rudimentary at best.” Tony tried for a cocky smirk but it fell slightly flat.

“So you’re not just using that work excuse to be a dick.”

Tony barked out a short laugh. “No, I’m not. But this did have the nice consequence of you showing up at my door.” At that, something warm suffused within him. Ah, hell, Bucky was right.

“I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep,” Steve admitted.

“Then why don’t you stay here for a bit? I have Chinese takeout in fridge, or at least I did a few days ago. It might still be there. You know, if you’re hungry. Midnight snack.” Tony shrugged in a faux-casual way and Steve realized for the first time that his presence made Tony nervous. Huh.

“Sure. It’s the least you could do.” This time when Tony smiled, Steve smiled back.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony wasn’t that bad. He had a tendency to forget Steve was in the room once he was deeply focused on his work, but Steve knew it wasn’t out of spite. When he did know Steve was in the room, they’d talk about anything that was on their mind. Steve would tell him about his work and how Bucky and Sam were both secretly assholes but that he put up with them anyway. That he’d always wanted to be an artist, but it didn’t pan out, and how much he missed his mom sometimes. In turn, Tony would tell him how he struggled between the company’s expectations of him and his desire to innovate; how much he missed his best friend Rhodey, who was currently serving in the Air Force; and how he was certain that he’d always be disappointing to his father, and that nothing he did will ever change that. It was surprising to Steve how intimate their conversations became, how much Tony seemed to trust him even though it was clear trust didn’t come easily to him.

They’d spend sleepless nights like that, and Steve would sometimes go straight to Tony’s apartment after work. Tony would work and Steve would lounge in another chair with his sketchbook and charcoals. It became routine, something that Steve looked forward to every day.

There had been times where he’d rush at the end of the day to leave the office as soon as his shift was over. Bucky mocked him every time. “You’re so transparent, Stevie.”

Steve was well aware of that.

One day Steve arrived at the apartment with a box of assorted doughnuts from Tony’s favorite shop. The crooning vocals of Sebastian Bach were yearning for his love and how he’d die for her kiss. It was a rather different mood of music than Tony would usually play. Steve set the box down and headed to the fridge for a beer.

The music died out suddenly and a door slammed open, an agitated Tony appearing. His focus zeroed in on Steve. “Listen, Ste—” He cut himself off and stared at the box on the counter. “Are those doughnuts?” he asked slightly incredulously.

“Yes?” Personally, Steve didn’t think doughnuts warranted that kind of disbelief, but Tony was always rather strange.

“You bought me doughnuts?” Tony’s voice sounded strangled.

“Is there a problem?”

“ _Yes_.” Tony crossed the room in seconds and grasped Steve’s biceps tightly. “Yes, there is a problem. There are lots of problems but this here is a problem, a problem I don’t know how to – Steve, let me ask you. Why are you here?”

“Uh, because we hang out together here? Because I like you?”

“See, that’s the problem!” Tony let go of him and spread his arms to indicate the room. “This is all a big problem and I don’t understand why you’re here. You’re a smart guy, Steve, so what are you doing?”

“Tony, I don’t understand. I’m not doing anything.” Steve supposed that Tony would lose it eventually, he just didn’t figure it’d be this soon.

“For the first time ever, Rhodey’s wrong. Because he can’t possibly be—” Tony peered at Steve, as if he had finally realized that Steve was actually here and wasn’t a hallucination.

Tony sighed. “Okay. Steve. Please don’t punch me.” And then Tony lifted himself to his tiptoes and kissed him.

It was an awkward kiss. Steve’s head wasn’t tilted down enough and so Tony’s lips had landed on his bottom lip and the skin above his chin. They were both too stiff and both of their eyes were open. Tony jerked back after a few seconds.

“Right. Wrong. Now if you’d excuse me—”

Steve wrapped a hand around the base of his neck and drew him back in, tilting his head to fully settle his lips against Tony’s. There, that was better.

Tony moaned in surprise which Steve took advantage of, dipping his tongue in briefly before retreating, as if promising more pleasure to come. Steve broke the kiss and leaned back, smirking down at Tony’s shocked expression. “Turns out Rhodey was right.”

“Rhodey’s always right,” Tony replied, as if on reflex. His eyes were wide and hopeful and darkened with lust. “I’m really bad with emotions, which is why I’ve waited until now, but I honestly really like you.”

“I like you too, Tony. That’s why I spend so much time here.”

“So it’s not because you’re a masochist?” Tony still sounded doubtful.

Steve smiled at him. “Despite your flaw of waking people with rock music, I do like being with you.” Before Tony could protest that, Steve kissed him again. He placed his other hand at Tony’s waist, bringing him even closer, and deepened the kiss. Tony relaxed into it and his hands wandered over Steve’s back, pausing to grab Steve’s ass and pull his lower half closer.

Tony broke the kiss to giggle. “Been wanting to do that since I met you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Steve bit at his earlobe gently and scraped his teeth on his neck, sucking a mark high above the collarbone.

Tony moved his hips, his erection rubbing against Steve’s half hard cock. “Why don’t we relocate?”

Without a word, Steve lifted Tony up and off his feet. Tony yelped and wrapped his legs around his middle. “Warn someone first!”

Steve laughed as he moved into the bedroom, dropping Tony in the center of the bed. Hovering above him, Steve could see how dilated his eyes were, his hair rumpled from Steve’s hand tugging at it. His neck was tilted back, baring his throat, and Steve could see his breathing was quickening.

Tony licked his lips, his eyes moving restlessly from Steve, to their position, to Steve’s crotch and back again. “So are you just going to stare at me or…”

Steve leaned in to hush him with a quick kiss. “I’m not rushing this.”

“Okay, but am I potentially getting laid before I die of blue balls?”

Steve’s answer was to rub slowly over the head of Tony’s clothed erection. He grinned when he saw Tony’s eyes flutter, rocking his hips up to meet Steve’s hand. Steve moved so that his mouth was right by Tony’s ear. “So how do you want this?” he whispered.

Tony shivered. “You. Fucking me. Yes, that’s it, that’s the plan, now you can get along with it.”

Instead of responding, Steve pushed Tony’s shirt up, latching his mouth to the skin of his abdomen, his fingers unbuttoning his jeans. He moved the pants and boxers down and grasped Tony in his hand. And Tony was responding beautifully, arching underneath him when Steve gave a long, firm pull.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Tony breathed.

Steve hummed in agreement, rubbing right beneath the head, watching Tony shudder. He pulled back from biting at Tony’s middle and yanked the jeans and underwear all the way. Tony followed his lead, taking off his own shirt, before pouting at Steve. “You’re still wearing clothes,” he whined.

Steve straightened, quickly pulling off his own clothes, and raised an eyebrow at Tony. “Better now?”

“Yes.” Tony reached for him and led him back into another kiss, this one sweet, letting Steve know that there would be more for them after this. Their urgency turned it dirty and Steve was sucking Tony’s bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it until it became red and glossy.

“Lube?” Steve asked once they parted for air.

Tony flapped his hand in the direction of the night table to the right. Steve managed to find the bottle and a condom and was squirting the lube in his fingers when he froze. “Wait, you have done this before, right?”

“Of course I have. I mean, sure, I was drunk the last time I was with a guy, but—”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I was drunk every single time I had sex. Well, I was drunk every time I was with a guy, but whatever, that’s past and – Steve? Steve, babe, you okay?”

“Are you telling me men have taken advan—”

“No, Steve, look, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“I can’t just forget—”

“Steve.” Tony grasped the side of Steve’s face and turned him to look him in the eye. He offered a reassuring smile. “I want to focus on the here and now. We can talk about what happened before later, but I’m sober now and I want you. I really do.”

Steve reluctantly pushed the anger aside. “All right. But we are gonna talk about this.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different. Now, come on. Death by blue balls, remember?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He pressed his fingers to Tony’s entrance, pressing one in lightly, circling the rim. He could hear Tony’s breath hitch. After wetting the outside, he pushed one finger inside slowly, stretching him as carefully as he can. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Tony.

“You could speed it up a bit,” Tony said breathlessly.

“I know what I’m doing.” Steve pressed in more firmly, twisting his finger. Absently he took Tony’s dick in his other hand and felt Tony squirm against his grip.

It wasn’t until Steve managed three fingers in him that he was satisfied; he kept jerking Tony throughout it and avoided brushing against his prostate. He glanced at Tony and grinned when he saw his expression. “You’re evil,” Tony grumbled, straining against Steve’s hands.

In response, Steve let go of his cock and curved his fingers until they were touching that spot. Tony moaned, his hips jolting.

“You’re brilliant, you’re beautiful, yes please, another?”

Steve chuckled, rolling on the condom and maneuvering into position. He added lube to his erection and dragged Tony’s hips closer to him. “You ready?”

“Just do it,” he whined.

“So impatient.” Steve led his cock in gradually, moving in increments, and paused, glancing down to see Tony writhing. “So needy for it.”

“Well, you work a guy up and then don’t deliver.”

“Don’t deliver, huh?” He bottomed out and stopped again, checking for any signs of pain. Tony only looked irritated, so he guessed it was fine. He withdrew a bit and pushed back in, pleased to find Tony not as tight. “That works,” he said, almost conversationally. Then he gave a hard thrust that made Tony keen.

The slick sounds of skin-on-skin filled the room but Steve barely registered it, his attention focused solely on Tony, who was gripping the sheets tightly, face screwed up in pleasure. He kept letting all sorts of breathless noises, trying to match Steve’s pace and failing, instead letting go to enjoy the ride. He was beautiful like this, trusting Steve to take care of him, and Steve felt honored by that trust.

Steve shifted, pulling Tony’s legs further up on his shoulders, and groaned at the new angle. “Touch yourself,” he commanded, and Tony listened without a snide remark this time. Steve kept the pace steady, long and deep strokes that rubbed against his prostrate every time.

It didn’t take long then. Tony threw his head back, arched his hips up, and came, his release spurting over his stomach. His muscles clamped down around Steve and a few short and quick thrusts later, Steve reached his own completion.

After a moment of basking in post coital contentment, Steve withdrew and tied the condom, leaving the bed for the bathroom. He came back with a warm, wet cloth and wiped the come from Tony’s abdomen. “So what was that about me not delivering?”

Tony didn’t seem to register that he was speaking, instead blinking sleepily up at him. He made grabby hands at him when Steve pulled away, and Steve complied, lying down next to him. Tony curled up to him, giving him a quick, chaste kiss. He sighed, “We should do that more often.”

“It’s another way you can make it up to me for waking me at night,” Steve said playfully.

Tony suddenly stiffened and pulled away from the warmth of their embrace. He refused to meet Steve’s confused eyes, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “Um, don’t hit me.”

“Why do you keep saying that? I’d never hurt you.”

Tony laughed nervously. “You might feel differently in a few minutes. So, the thing is… Remember when I said I needed music to help me concentrate? Well, I was kinda… lying…”

“…So you played music just for the hell of it?”

“No. That first night I honestly didn’t know what time it was. But then you came by to complain and, well.”

Tony startled at the sound of Steve’s snickering, his eyes darting to see Steve’s amused expression. Steve said, “You know, there are better ways of getting a guy’s attention.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, I know you now. It seems like something dumb you would do.” Steve reached out and wrapped his arms around Tony, pulling him closer. They fit together perfectly and Steve leaned in to steal a quick kiss. This thing between them was new and fragile and Steve was thankful, thankful that he was getting to know and understand this wonderful man. Tony was smiling shyly up at him, as if he knew what Steve was thinking and was in full agreement. “How about you leave the music to daytime hours?”

“I think I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> The song referenced at the end where Steve comes in with doughnuts is "I Remember You" by Skid Row. It sounds like the perfect 80s lovesick song that Tony would listen to while pining after Steve.
> 
>  
> 
> I really hope you like this, parkhachi, and that the sexy fun times was... adequate enough. I struggled with this a bit, so I hope it paid off in the end. Happy holidays and happy new year!


End file.
